


Ruffled Feathers

by FlorentineQuill



Series: Preening Her, Preening Him [5]
Category: Maleficent - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Post-Movie, Wings, preening, semi-accidental love confession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 14:55:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2029290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlorentineQuill/pseuds/FlorentineQuill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Diaval finally gets his hands on Maleficent's wings and they discuss where they stand now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ruffled Feathers

**Author's Note:**

> Set about a month and a half after the battle.

Diaval soared through the air ahead of Maleficent, wheeling and diving as she flew. Earlier, she had copied his maneuvers, working to strengthen her muscles after so many years of inactivity. Formal efforts had quickly dissolved into impromptu games of tag that left both of them breathless and smiling. When she wasn’t in the air, Maleficent often sought out Balthazar and the other hamadryads for sparring on the ground. 

Today had been a day of nothing but flying. Maleficent had the advantage in speed and reach but Diaval was small and well-used to dodging the attention of hawks and farmers alike. He danced just out of her reach, forcing her to work on tight, quick maneuvers that left her wings trembling. It had been hot, thirsty work. Thankfully, thermals were easy to find and glide on, lazy looping circles over the river meadows. 

The sun was setting now and they were home-bound. Diaval had his nest in the great tree on top of the cliff and Maleficent had her new aerie. After returning to the Moors, she had moved from the caves at the base of the cliff that had been camouflaged and warded several times over. Now she lived in a smaller set caves, close to the top and with only one or two wards at the entrance. 

They landed on top of the cliff and Diaval settled his feathers, only having to preen one or two stray feathers back into alignment. Maleficent was less lucky. Her primaries and secondaries were easily reached and she smoothed them back without a thought. Her tertiaries and covert feathers on the other hand…Diaval winced, watching her feel and try to fix those feathers, her arms awkwardly bent up and back. 

_She needs help._ He hopped forward and tugged at the hem of her dress. She waved her hand but he didn’t move with the transformation as he normally did. He knelt on the ground before her. He waited, mouth going dry. _I hope this doesn’t end with me as a worm._ “Mistress,” he said gently. 

“What is it, Diaval?” she asked, still trying to fix her wings with one hand. 

He curled his fingers into the thick grass to keep from doing anything rash. Like touching her wings or catching her free hand. “Mistress, let me help.” 

Maleficent went still. Diaval forced himself to meet her gaze as she studied him, her expression neutral. Not even her eyes gave away any hints, remaining a clear, light green. “Help with what, exactly?” Her words were soft but sharp enough to cut stone.

He swallowed. “Let me help with your wings. Just to get your coverts in order.”

Maleficent didn’t reply and he felt sweat break out along his spine. He held still, kneeling in the grass before her, servant before mistress. After several minutes, he started to edge back. “Forget it,” he said. “It was stupid of me to ask, you obviously managed well enough before—”

“Just my coverts?” she asked, cutting off the rest of his apology.

“Anything you need,” he reminded her. The familiar words of his oath curled around his heart, heavy and comfortable. She favored him with another unfathomable look before she slowly and deliberately turned around, presenting her wings. They were trembling, but he wasn’t sure if that was from the day’s exercise or nerves. 

He took a deep breath and stood up, brushing bits of dirt and grass off his hands. He slid forward half a step and raised his own shaking hands. He rested them lightly on the folded wings before him. Maleficent’s breathing hitched and he felt her wings shudder under his hands, tucking themselves against her back, feathers slicked down. He pulled away, heartsick. _This shouldn’t be hard. But it is, for her._  

“Mistress, if this makes you uncomfortable…” He wasn’t sure how to explain. There was supposed to be an easiness when you preened a flock-mate, a level of unspoken trust, but there was none of that here. Stefan might have been dead, in the ground, for almost a month now, but it seemed his shade was alive and well. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Maleficent turned her head to look at him. “Don’t be,” she said sharply and he took another step back. “I— He took something from me, Diaval. He took something and I want it _back_." She took a deep breath and forced her shoulders to relax. Her wings sagged a little. "I trust you.”

He bit back the retort waiting to be said — _I certainly hope so, after almost eighteen years_ — and nodded. “I’ll go slowly,” he said. “Feel free to beat me over the head if I do something stupid.”

“Have no fear of that,” she said dryly and turned away again. 

Diaval placed his hands back on her wings. Maleficent tensed but he watched her tilt her chin up and felt her take another deep breath. He ran his hands over her feathers, barely doing anything but marveling at the strength of the wings before him and their owner.  After a few minutes, he started to work, adjusting the lay of her great primaries and secondaries. He followed the sweep of muscle and bone out from her shoulder blades and down, to where the longest primaries curved along the ground. “How do you sit?” he asked before he could stop himself. “How do you lie down?”

Maleficent shifted her wings, stretching them out a few inches. “Very carefully,” she replied, deadpan.

“I imagine so,” he muttered, standing back up. As it stood, her primaries were ragged from dragging on the ground when she walked. He moved up, into the tertiaries, taking the opportunity to work his fingers between the feathers, stiff barbs sliding past his skin. He wondered at the softness of the down he could feel, tucked against her skin, at the strength of coiled muscles. He closed his eyes, working entirely by feel as he finally sorted and smoothed her covert feathers, as promised. Maleficent was quiet, her breathing far too deep, far too even to be natural, but her wings didn’t shudder at his touch.

After several minutes of what was less preening and more outright stroking and petting, Diaval forced himself to open his eyes and remove his hands from where he had buried them, tucked under the feathers near her shoulder blades. “All done,” he said softly and moved away. 

Maleficent raised her head from where it had dropped as he had worked. She opened her wings in a massive stretch, rolling and shrugging her shoulders. He watched, mouth going dry as her feathers gleamed in the sunlight. They were a dark brown, to match her hair, with subtle patterns that made his raven-self want to stare for hours, enraptured by the designs. She opened and closed her wings a couple times and he smiled in satisfaction at how her feathers lay smoothly now.

“You’ll be flying circles around me in no time,” he said. Hesitated as the tension in the air shifted but squared his shoulders. This had been hanging over them for more than a month now, this silent question of where they stood now. “You won’t need me to be your wings, anymore.”

Maleficent went still at his words and his heart was in his throat as she slowly turned around to face him. “Are you asking to leave?” she asked. Before he could reply, she continued, “Because you can, you know.” She waved one hand at the Moors and beyond. “Leave. Go back to the life I took you from.”

“What? No!” He took a step closer, fingers curling into fists. “I— Is that an order?” he asked.

“Only if you consider it one.” Her tone was studiously careless as she turned away from him.

“You have your wings back,” he said helplessly. “You can visit Aurora whenever you like. You’re the Protector of the Moors once more. What— What good am I?”  She didn’t respond and he dared to take another step closer. “Don’t send me away, Mistress,” he whispered. “Don’t send me somewhere I can’t follow you.” His voice cracked and she turned, almost clipping him with a wing.

She looked startled. “Diaval?” she asked, eyeing him.

“Don’t— Don’t send me away,” he replied and thought _, Oh blast. If not now, when?_ “I know you don’t believe in true love,” he said and Maleficent’s eyes widened, wings snapping half-open in the evening breeze. “Wait!” he said, holding out his hands, entreating her to stay. When she didn’t move, he continued in a rush. “I don’t know if true love exists, but I know that I love you. And I don’t know if anything will ever come of that but I can wait. I can be patient. Just— Don’t send me away. I would hardly know what to do with myself.”

Maleficent watched him like one watched a rabid beast, wary and on the verge of flight. “I do not know what you want me to do,” she said after a moment.

“You don’t have to do anything,” he said, shoulders slumping. “I just— I wanted you to know. Our debts to each other are paid but I would stay with you, if you allowed it. Command me. My eyes, my words, my wings, are yours.”

“I see,” she softly, not looking at him. Opened her wings a little more. “It’s been a long day. I will see you later, Diaval.” She raised her hand, fingers wreathed in familiar gold.

He swallowed and stepped back, nodded. “Of course. Good night, mistress.”

“Good night.” She transformed her and was gone, tipped over the edge of the cliff before he landed. He shook his head and flapped up onto a branch in time to see her enter into her aerie. He croaked softly to himself as he settled himself into his nest for the night. _Hopefully I didn’t ruin everything. Hopefully._


	2. Smoothing Things Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maleficent has a job for Diaval.

Diaval picked restlessly at the fox carcass he had found that morning. It had been almost a week since he had seen Maleficent, since the sunset on the cliff where he had preened her wings. A week since he had confessed his love for her. They hadn’t exactly been avoiding each other on purpose, but he only had seen her from afar, soaring up in the headwinds or entering her aerie. His words to her had been truer than he had known— The days seemed infinitely longer, when he had nothing to do but fly and look for food. 

There was at least one unkindness living in this part of the Moors, but they seemed too small to his eyes. They always sidled away and eyed him uncomfortably if he roosted too close. He wrestled to strip away a bit of spine muscle and with his own thoughts at the same time. Normally, he would have been twice as pleased to have been eating something that had once been a dog, but now it was just tasteless, stringy, meat. 

He felt the downdraft when Maleficent landed, spreading his wings to keep from being knocked over. He let the meat drop to the dirt and turned around. She was just unfolding out of her crouch and nodded at him. “Diaval.” 

He croaked a greeting, and sighed when she waved her hand. He took a step away from the fox carcass as he stretched upward onto growing legs. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and licked his lips before speaking. “Mistress.” His eyes flickered to her wings, folded neatly on her back but they gave him no hints of her mood today.

“I may not need you to be my wings anymore, but I still need you,” she said bluntly and his heart leapt.

“Oh?” he asked.

She nodded again. “Despite my wings, I don’t expect to be visiting Aurora often.”  She took a breath. “If the Moors and Aurora’s lands are ever to unite, we need to establish…credibility.” She met his eyes and he held his breath. “Her people will never accept me.”

He sighed and looked at the ground, heart sinking. _So, this is her reply. And a solution_. _How tidy of her._ His throat tightened and he closed his eyes. “I see.” He glanced back up at her and tried to grin. _This is what I wanted, wasn’t it? To keep serving her._ “Sending a raven in amongst the crows?”

“Sending a dragon in amongst the wolves.” Her voice was quiet. The silence stretched between them, ugly and unrelenting.

“When do you want me to leave?” he finally asked, his voice rough.

“Sooner, rather than later. Diaval—” She took a step closer to him and touched his chin. He trembled but looked up. She looked almost regretful. “I’m not sending you away for what you said the other day.”

“No?” He had to ask.

She shook her head. “No. I’ve been considering making you ambassador of the Moors since the battle, while we stayed at the castle.”

His heart rose up from the ground. “Really?”

She smiled slightly. “Really. Besides, I’ll need frequent reports on what Aurora’s people decide, and to hear how your own work progresses.”

“True.” He considered the task she was giving him and stood up a little straighter, chest puffing out in pride. He hesitated. “Will I be in my man-shape then? I can travel by horse, I think, and be here at the border in less than a day—”

“Only if you wish it.” Maleficent reached into her sleeve and brought out a necklace. 

He cocked his head, instantly attracted by the shining crystal shard that hung on the braided leather cord. Crystals often glowed with ambient magic in the Moors, but this one was warm and golden with a familiar magic. Hanging on either side of the crystal were two feathers. He recognized his own instantly and bit his lip. He reached out a finger and brushed the small, brown feather hanging on the other side. 

“One of your coverts?” he asked. Her wings were massive, her feathers sized to match. Anything else would have dwarfed his own. 

“Yes. This pendant will allow you to transform into whatever you want, whenever you want.” She held it out to him. “A gift, if you will, for the past seventeen years of service.”

“A gift, gladly accepted.” He took the pendant and settled it around his neck, admiring the gleam of the crystal against his skin. He looked up at her slyly. “Any form?”

She raised her eyebrow. “Horse, dragon, raven, or man.” Her lips curved up in a wicked smile. “Wolf or mealy worm or tabby cat. It might take some practice, but if you imagine it, you can shift into it.”

He wrinkled his nose as she mentioned the different shapes. “If I never have to change into a dog again, it will be too soon. There are limits, mistress.”

“Of course there are,” she replied but there was humor in her voice and eyes again. 

He let out a breath and smiled. “Give me a few days practice and I’ll be ready to leave.”

“Excellent. By that time, I will have a message to send with you.” Maleficent  let out a slow, thoughtful breath. “A message, from the people of the Moors, to the Princess Aurora.” She spread her wings. “Come along, Diaval. We have work to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I do have plans for what happened at the castle after the battle. Like, six chapters worth of plans.)


End file.
